


Mise-en-scène

by MyMisguidedFairytale



Series: light reading [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M, Love/Hate, No Dialogue, One Shot, PariCheadle, Pre-Canon, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 09:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18568516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMisguidedFairytale/pseuds/MyMisguidedFairytale
Summary: Sooner or later she’ll have to learn to beat him at his own game. / Cheadle x Pariston





	Mise-en-scène

**Author's Note:**

> I made a project a number of years ago over on cheadle-yorkshire on tumblr where I wrote and posted a number of stories detailing what I imagined to be the goings-on of the Zodiac Twelve and in particular the developing connection and relationships between Cheadle, Pariston, and Ging. For the first time I'm posting them over here, in chronological order, and will be combining all of the stories in my personal canon under one umbrella, which you can find in the series ' _light reading_ ' and which will be added to on a regular basis. This project and these characters are near and dear to my heart and I'm happy to be able to share them with you here. I hope you enjoy the stories!
> 
> _Mise-en-scène_ was written and published on July 6th, 2014 on [tumblr](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/90899566927/fanfiction-hunter-x-hunter-mise-en-sc%C3%A8ne). 
> 
> Everything below is preserved as it was originally posted:

_**Mise-en-scène** _

In one of Pariston’s early, frequent speeches about being ‘the champion of the common man’ and ‘the vice-chair this organization needs—no, deserves!’ he decides to eschew the office space allotted to him by his status for the time being and instead keeps the small, tidy desk he has in the large, open office for all the committee heads. With grand gestures he insists that he will find a better use for the empty office, and so it is that Cheadle continues to see him during their—entirely coincidental, he claims—daily office hours.

And of course his desk sits smack in the middle of the room, where he can watch anyone coming and going in that quiet, furtive way of his. And he has a clear sightline to the window and to the elevator, while all Cheadle has to look at is the back of Pariston’s perfectly styled head.

Not that she was _often_ looking at him, of course. She has much better things to do with her time. And much better company in the others who keep the same hours in the building—Botobai, to her left, and Bushidora Ambitious, farther down against the back wall.

No, the problem is that Pariston seems to make a special effort at drawing Cheadle’s attention and disrupting her every attempt at productivity. She didn’t even know the Association owned a power stapler, but there it sits on Pariston’s desk, where he spends his time dutifully stapling leaflets together with zero consistent rhythm from a stack of paper a foot high. Some days he brings food—potato chips from the vending machine or a takeout order from the expensive bistro down the street. He never offers any to herself or the others, but he would hesitate just slightly before eating, as if he was considering the option each time. As if he was waiting for someone to remind him that he should be eating in the break room, or to insist that if he chooses to eat in front of everyone else, the least he could do was offer to share.

The only time they speak to one another is in the elevator. The timing is too good to be a coincidence—they enter or leave at the same time about every other day, or longer if she’s lucky, which she rarely is when it comes to Pariston—and he will make some innocuous comment about the weather or offer her a compliment on her hair or her glasses or the progress of her newest project.

Once, she’s manning a trolley full of supplies for Netero, and runs over his foot as she leaves the elevator three floors down. She doesn’t apologize. She knows he could’ve moved his foot out of the way if he wanted. He’s fast enough.

She supposes he wants—or at least expects—her apology, though, because he chuckles to himself as the doors close behind her. She waits, staring at the lights above the elevator as they tick down to the ground floor. It might be her imagination, but it seems to move more slowly than normal.

She knows that’s the point. He wants her attention focused on these inane little things for his own personal amusement. So when he begins to whistle softly one morning while working, she taps the edge of her pencil against the side of her desk in a cross-rhythm. The whistling staggers, then stops. She continues until she’s satisfied he won’t start that again.

And the next day, she brings two blueberry muffins from her favorite café and sets them both down on a napkin on her desk. She only eats one. After a few minutes, Botobai comes over and asks if she’s saving the last one. She says no, and when he asks for it, she hands it over with a smile. From his desk in the middle of the room, Pariston turns and looks over his shoulder. The expression on his face she can only describe as deeply, strangely pensive.

She thinks it might make for good practice. Sooner or later, she knows, she’ll have to learn to beat him at his own game.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. [Mise-en-scène](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mise_en_sc%C3%A8ne) is an expression used to describe the visual aspects of a theatre production–for example, lighting, costuming, stage design, etc.
> 
> 2\. Thank you for reading. I would appreciate and value your comments.


End file.
